


A Romantic or Aromantic

by wizardofahz



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-13
Updated: 2018-06-13
Packaged: 2019-05-21 17:47:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,394
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14920001
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wizardofahz/pseuds/wizardofahz
Summary: Kara is aware of the term “aromantic” well before she identifies with it. She doesn’t dislike the concept of dating or falling in love, so figuring out that she’s aromantic? It's not so simple.





	A Romantic or Aromantic

**Author's Note:**

  * For [iamdeltas](https://archiveofourown.org/users/iamdeltas/gifts).



> It’s Pride Month, so I figured it’d be a good time to get some aro pride going and fill a prompt from iamdeltas: “Something about Kara figuring out that she's aro, maybe? I don't actually see Kara as canonically aro but I think it's a neat idea. Also because I love the idea of aro characters being super compassionate to run counter to the stereotype of aro people as unfeeling robots. :) ”

Kara is aware of the term “aromantic” well before she identifies with it.

She learns the word as she browses the internet and learns that not only are romantic and sexual attractions spectrums but that some people don’t experience either or both at all.

Figuring out that she’s asexual is easy.

The concept of sex has never appealed to her, very much the opposite in fact. It makes her close her eyes and shudder and occasionally wish she doesn’t have x-ray vision and super hearing, so experiencing sexual attraction? That’s a definite no for her. 

Figuring out that she’s aromantic is not as simple.

She doesn’t dislike the concept of dating or falling in love. On the contrary, there’s something charming about watching romantic comedies and the idea of developing a deep love for someone and finding a home in them.

It’s all so very confusing though because sometimes there are friends like Winn and then there are friends like James. With friends like Winn, there’s a friendship that starts easily and simultaneously grows and deepens over time. It’s easy to stamp a “Just Friends” label on those. But friends like James that make her go, “Wapow!” upon meeting them are confusing because they’re so cool, she wants some sort of relationship with them, and according to Winn, “wapow” means the dating kind.

Kara has some sort of crush on James, and he likes her, so when the time is right they try dating.

It does not work. 

Kara tries—she really does—but as James picks up on, the fact that she tries so hard means something’s off. It doesn’t help that Kara doesn’t know what that “something” is. She thinks about her friendship with James and how dating was supposed to change their relationship. It occurs to her that she doesn’t know what’s supposed to be different about it. 

It’s like how she’s always had a hard time distinguishing when people like her from when they  _ like _ -like her. 

Alex can though. 

“I’m a human being with eyes,” Alex likes to joke whenever Kara is surprised by “the obvious”, which isn’t really helpful considering Kara also has eyes, really good ones that can literally see through people.

Apparently despite all her superpowers, other people can see things she can’t.

Kara tries to break it down like Alex would, and the eye analogy brings something of an epiphany. 

To most people, red and green are separate colors. To Kara, James is like a mint green. He’s cool in a way that surprised her when they first met. On the other hand, Winn is a warm red, a comfortable presence that’s more similar to her own wavelength. Some people might use the green light as a sign to date (as Kara tried) and the red light to stay friends.

But in the context of this metaphor, Kara’s colorblind. 

The mint green and warm red produce different tones of gray, but they’re both still gray. Winn’s darker gray provides a kindred spirit of rambly nerdiness. James’ lighter gray provides a new perspective on all sorts of things and makes him friend-crush material. Kara appreciates the contrast deeply, and while that means her friendship with each of them is different, that doesn’t mean either is more likely to veer into romantic relationship territory.

She likes their friendships just as they are. As friendships.

But then Kara’s mind jumps to other genders. Not wanting to date guys doesn’t eliminate being romantically attracted to other people. 

“She’s gorgeous, she’s smart, smells nice… Hell, I want to date her,” Kara remembers saying of Lucy.

Maybe deep down she meant it. Maybe compulsive heteroromanticism was masking her genuine feelings. Falling back on the color metaphor, Kara thinks that maybe Lucy could be blue, a color that she can actually see. She considers what dating Lucy would be like, what dating other people would be like. 

And circles back to the conclusion that she doesn’t know what she’s supposed to be picturing.

“Hell, I want to date her,” is a thing Kara has heard people say and will therefore sometimes echo, but it’s also a saying for which Kara has no reference frame.

If a human says, “I’m so hungry I could eat an entire pizza by myself,” Kara knows that could very well be true.

If a human says, “I’m so hungry I could eat a horse,” Kara knows that’s hyperbole.

Hunger is something she understands, but sayings like, “Hell, I want to date her,” and “I don’t know if I want to be her or on her” float in some unknown space in which the axis from realistic to hyperbole is out of her grasp.

All in all, it seems safe to say that Kara is aromantic.

It’s kind of nice identifying as aromantic because it relieves her from social expectations of dating, which she’d done before in an attempt to blend in with humans. Now that aromanticism is gaining more exposure with humans, it’s a label she can use to explain her lack of romantic attraction without seeming unusual enough to be alien.

It’s also confusing though because identifying as aromantic seems so final. Even though she hasn’t like-liked someone, she doesn’t want to close herself off from that possibility. There’s also a fear of being left behind, that everyone in her life will find their significant others and move on.

There’s so much to disentangle, which means it’s on her mind during the next Sister Night.

It’s Kara’s turn to pick the movie, so she chooses  _ Spy. _ The protagonist choosing to hang out with her best friend instead of the man she’s been interested in is a refreshing end.

Alex picks up on her reflective mood, and while she doesn’t say anything, she does spend the entire movie with her arms wrapped tightly around Kara.

After the movie finishes, Alex says, “If you want to talk, I’m all ears. If you don’t want to, that’s fine too. We can do no thinking, just hugging.”

No thinking, just hugging sounds really great, but it also feels like there’s a building pressure in her head as her thoughts grow and multiply, and Alex has always been great at helping her put things into perspective.

“I think—” Kara starts, her voice small. “I think I’m—”

But the word gets stuck in her throat.

So she tells Alex about the confusion over her relationship with James and describes the colorblind metaphor. All the thoughts she thought she’d disentangled tangle right back up again as they make their way out of her mouth, and she’s not sure if any of it makes any sense.

Still with the buildup, it’s easier to get the words out. “I think I’m aromantic.”

“Aromantic,” Alex echoes.

The word sounds so foreign on Alex’s tongue. It’s difficult to see Alex’s face fully from this angle, so Kara can’t help but panic a little at the less than exuberant reaction.

“Yeah, I’m not the only one. There are humans who identify as aromantic. There’s a flag, and—”

“Okay,” Alex says, stilling Kara with a gentle arm squeeze. “That’s good to know. I’ve never heard of being aromantic before, but, Kara, for me, I don’t need to hear that it’s true for other people. I just need to hear that it’s true for you. If it’s true for you, then I support you.” 

Kara curls into Alex even further and wills herself not to cry from the relief.

“I’m not sure I’ve figured everything out though,” Kara admits.

“No one’s got everything figured out,” Alex reassures her. 

So they keep talking. Among the thoughts that Alex helps her analyze are the doubts she has: closing herself off from the possibility of future relationships and being alone for the rest of her life.

“If you find someone, that’s okay,” Alex says. “You didn’t identify as aromantic before. You changed your label. You can change it again. It doesn’t mean you were living a lie. It just means you’re learning more about yourself. That can only be a good thing. Okay?”

Kara nods.

Alex continues, “And you will always have me. I was never going to leave you behind before, and I’m not about to start now. This changes nothing.” 

“I know,” Kara says and clutches Alex tighter. As a thank you, she adds, “I love you.”

“I love you too.”


End file.
